Rewind, Repeat
by Mirra Mirra
Summary: Her longtime best-friend snorted loudly and rolled her eyes in a way that screamed, ‘You must be friggen blind.’
1. You Must be Friggen Blind

Author's Gibberish: Yes, I know, it's been a while. But this will be my first try at a multi-chaptered fic, so please, please be gentle. This will probably be updated between one-shots, so there will be no steady stream of new chapters, but maybe one or two every month. I'm sorry for the length of time in between, but if I force myself through the story I'll lose interest and most likely drop the story entirely.

So anyway, thank you once again to Kinyo, my wonderful beta-reader. And thank oh-so-much to my wonderful, wonderful readers! I hope you all enjoy reading this as I did writing it!

Tawnyb

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Disclaimer: I own nothing. Get that? Nothing. I'm legally incapable of owning anything. In truth, my _parents_ own_ me_.

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"You are so lucky." 

Yukari sat on thee bed, knees nestled under her, starring out the window at the neighbor's yard. She was bright-eyed and attentive, much like a small child with ADD at the national convention of shiny objects.

"Want to trade?"

Hitomi looked up at her friend from her spot lying on the floor, one eyebrow lifted in a sarcastic way that made it seem as though she was considering to get up and leave at any moment.

Her longtime best-friend snorted loudly and rolled her eyes in a way that screamed, _'You must be friggen blind.'_

"Shut up, you shouldn't even be looking. What would Amano say if he knew?"

The brunette simple gave a sniff. "Hitomi, I'm dating, not dead. There's no harm in looking at the scenery as long as it's available. Though," giving Hitomi a deadpan look, "there does seem to be some kind of harm in _not_ looking. Your eyes will never work if you don't open them. "

Hitomi sighed in defeat and settled back down on the floor. Her friend may have won their little bout of words, but she had also apparently become very uninterested in the actions of the neighboring home.

It wasn't that Van Fanel was unattractive; on the contrary the boy was able to make half of the school's female population swoon with a mere glance and cocky grin. But it was that attitude; his view on life and his damned superiority complex that made Hitomi want to move across the planet as quickly as possible.

When she thought about it, it would be fair to say that the only reason she was able to stick around was because of Folken, the older sibling that had always volunteered to baby-sit her when both parents were out on business.

The two brothers were completely opposite in personality and style.

Folken was taller and slightly fairer than his brother, with dyed blue hair that seemed somehow natural. He was into light colored clothing that was casual yet nice enough for the work place. Many would say they could see him as a male model, but Hitomi knew him better than that. He was without the attitude or ego that came with such a job, and he wanted humanitarian, working in schools as a science teacher.

Van, on the other hand, was only slightly taller than average, with jet black hair and a thinner body type. The only colors had ever seen him in were incredibly dark and raggedy, with holes and wear that had been put there by the designer. Most of the school population thought of him as the next up-and-coming rock star, and Hitomi didn't know him well enough to approve or deny that.

Yukari shifted on the bed, her face coming into view a moment later, and blinked down for a few moments, obviously thinking. Hitomi felt no real impulse to push her into a conversation, not really wanting to talk much today.

'_What is she going to say_?' Hitomi wondered; something about Amano or the upcoming track practice schedule, a question about the rest of their senior year perhaps?

"Are you ok?"

'_Well that was unexpected_.'

Apparently taking a moment too long to reply, the opportunity was lost in a steady torrent of conversation.

"I mean, you know. You've been really quiet for a while now, and I really didn't want to ask you, because you can normally get yourself out of a rut. But, oh I don't know, it's different this time. You're becoming so… _sarcastic_. It started after Allen asked Eries out, and I know you really, really liked him while you two were going out, and you two were together_forever_. And Amano and I were just starting out when he asked, so I kept thinking it must have something to do with all that stuff happening, and…"

Her voice began to fade out slightly as Hitomi recognized that her friend was slowly slipping into a rant mode. She found herself nodding sporadically, and agreeing whenever there was an expectant pause.

Thoughts about dinner, and an upcoming trig test ran through her mind as the color of the ceiling, a once bright white that had dulled down to a slightly off color during the years of her residency, became boring.

Would Yukari notice if she fell asleep?

She rarely noticed other things while she ranted. Maybe a small amount of snoring would be excusable?

Hitomi tried to take a moment to figure out where the one-sided conversation was going before taking the chance.

"He really is hot, and haven't you known him forever? You've been neighbors for, what, ten years? Your families are so close, and all those pictures of you three in the hall. I mean, what even happened? Your parents said you two were joined at the hip, and then all of a sudden you hated each other. What happened, it couldn't have been that bad. I mean, honestly, he's completely dateable. A little broody, and all he does in class is listen to that junky radio-cassette thing, but otherwise, come on…"

_Wait what?_

Hitomi blinked, all thoughts of sleep vanishing with the nausea. She was obviously insinuating Van, because Folken was in college and their other neighbor was the type of old, fat, hairy man that liked to wear Speedos at water parks to traumatize small children.

Well, maybe she was lucky, and Yukari _was_ insinuating Mr. Phillips.

"No way in hell I am ever even speaking to Van. He is an evil, cruel, moronic human being."

There was a long pause, and Hitomi realized with horror that she had cut into one of Yukari's inner monologues that were spoken aloud. She held them as sacred her jacket that was signed by all of The Click Five with accompanying hugs, and any type of interruption ran the risk of becoming a close to fatal mistake.

Luckily, however, Yukari was more concerned for her friend than the long speech that been building for the pas five minutes.

"What is he, the Anti-Christ?"

"Close enough."

Yukari scoffed and fell backward onto the bed, fingers intertwining in the blue bed spread. Hitomi prayed one of her nails wouldn't catch on the embroidered white and pink feathers.

"What'd he do?"

There was a pause, and shutting her eyes tightly, Hitomi scrunched her nose in what she hopped to be a sign of casual indifference. There was no reason to drag anything unpleasant into their conversation, so she slipped into a simple but direct evasion.

"Don't ask."


	2. Miss Me Already?

Author's Gibberish: Round two! Ok, so this isn't quite within the time frame I was aiming for, but I guess it isn't too late in comparison to my previous guess.

Please, if you feel the urge, feel free to give me any constructive advice. I would like to learn from this experience, as well as enjoy the simple fun of writing.

Tawnyb

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Disclaimer: I own nothing. Get that? Nothing. I'm legally incapable of owning anything. In truth, my _parents _own_ me_.

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The school was new, having been made only five years previous. The rooms and halls were modern in style, and he had been sure to check their selection of classes. 

Folken remembered the school opening a year before his younger brother was in high school. There was a major struggle over school borders and student transfers, a hassle that he had been saved from by only a narrow margin.

His car was one of three in the parking lot: a black Mustang GT with midnight-blue racing stripes, a spoiler, matching leather interior and a racing transmission. It wasn't the only car with dealer plates still in place.

The school was in a higher-class area of the suburbs with easy access to both the city and country, which was the only reason he had set up his two adoring friends in the area.

Both Eriya and Naria Hyou had to be completely satisfied if they were going to settle somewhere, and Folken was getting tired of keeping track of their aimless travels.

There were connections here, people he had been raised around and knew could be trusted-granted, and some with a very large grain of salt-to give him updates.

The car roared into life as he settled back, eyes chancing to glance at the pink stone that hung from the rear-view mirror; Folken realized there just may be some perks to moving back home.

A buzz sounded as the car left the vast student parking lot, and with a quick push of a button on the steering wheel the speakerphone came to life. The number on the dash's screen was familiar, the cell-phone contacts displaying a picture of the two twins together.

"Miss me already?"

There was a snort, but no negation. Instead the older of the two spoke, "We found something you might like to know."

A pause later and Eriya sounded from a slight distance away. "We've had the computer system set up, and the councilors have posted the current student schedules. Apparently, your younger brother is in our team class itinerary."

Silence, again, and Folken could hear the rapid click-click of the keyboard.

"That's not all, though. You'll really like this." Naria sounded like the Cat who caught the Canary.

'_Obviously,_' Folken thought.

Though the two were there for their own sake, they still had a purpose. He had specifically requested that his younger brother be placed in the joined English and History classes. The teen would need someone to watch out for him in the changes to come, and Folken had fixed for the twins to be Van's-granted, sarcastic and willful with a tinge a nymphomania-guardian angels.

"Apparently," the younger sibling sounded slightly agitated, "That girl you mentioned a few times… Hitomi, wasn't it? She's also up for the team class, though her attendance is still pending."

Folken found himself grinning, making the girl driving near him to almost swerve into the median. _'Yes, there are definitely some perks to this new little arrangement.'_

"Perfect. Can you send me a copy of the information you have on her from the school system? I need to do a little catching up before anything is settled."

Another pause and dash of tapping, and Naria spoke up. "It isn't a lot, but we'll drop what ever we can get at your office. The janitors are here to help move in the desks, so we'll call you later tonight."

'_Poor bastards.'_ Folken knew that the janitors were not usually designated by the school to move furniture, but had probably been croqueted into the act by a pair of scantily-suited, overly touchy twins.

'_They won't last a minute.'_

The cul-de-sac came into view as he said goodbye and pressed the button again to terminate the speakerphone connection. Two homes, both two-storied homes with two car garages and mildly manicured lawns commandeered the entire ringlet.

Cutting the engine, he finished pulling into the one surrounded by large forest-like trees, and sat back for a moment before taking a deep breath and moving towards the house.

All of the pieces were slowly slipping into place; the only thing needed now was time and-probably, if Folken knew his brother, a good throttling when they got out of hand.


	3. Rhymes With Mitch

Author's Gibberish: Her we are, another long-overdue chapter. I was troubled by a very nasty computer virus, and had to reformat everything, so please except my apologies. I hope this meets your standards!

As always, I would love constructive criticism and reviews. You all help me improve by finding errors and brightening my day. Thank, so much, to those who have reviewed and help me grow as a writer.

Tawnyb

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Disclaimer: I own nothing. Get that? Nothing. I'm legally incapable of owning anything. In truth, my _parents _own _me_.

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With a quick glance around the almost-filled room for a boy with a certain hair type, Hitomi let out a loud sigh and dropped onto the nearest empty desk seat in the Mythology and Humanities Team room. 

'_Thank God, _He_ isn't here'._

The day, and Hitomi's semester schedule, was Hell worthy. Her classes were almost completely across-campus from each other, Yukari was not in any of the same rooms-or even close enough to see Hitomi in-between classes-and there was a new student who seemed to have put in her friend's place.

His name, apparently, was Dilandau. Really, the boy was somewhat attractive-albeit, in a creepy way-and quiet, but something about him gave her the chills.

'_Maybe it's his eyes?' _Hitomi mused, pulling out a notebook as the school's two newest teachers stood and surveyed the stragglers that slouched into class as the bell rang.

Honestly, though, she wasn't afraid of his appearance-she had grown up around a boy with a set of burgundy-red eyes, and had known them better than her own younger brother's for a time-but what was what was churning behind them.

Something violent, wild and angry at anything set in sight.

They saw too much, and found interest where they shouldn't. There was something in them-in_him_-that made a person blush or cringe away, eyes to the ground.

Dilandau was not on her Nice-People-To-Look-At list, but she seemed to be on his.

Every class, except for her current and final period of the day, was filled with awkward silences and almost-glares as he watched her from the row over, or behind. In health class, he would turn and sit in his seat sideways for the simple fact that she was in view from that position.

The new teachers-both or only one, Hitomi couldn't discern because of their similarity in both appearance and voice-made a noise that quieted the already boisterous class.

Hitomi couldn't help but make a quick scan of the two rather young adults in front of the class. On thing stood out: both teachers had bodies that would look more comfortable in a casino on the arm of a very rich, extravagant bachelor.

"So, I suppose we should start this off. My name is Naria Hyou." She was tall, slender and had long silver hair.

"And I am Eryia Hyou. We will be your Mythology and Humanities team teachers."

They seemed to move in synch, stretching back to sit on top of the desk that slouched in front of the rows of gawking male and shocked female students.

Hitomi was reminded-with great distaste-of the haughty pink-haired figure that had stormed away after slamming into her shoulder in the hall during the first passing period of the day.

The silver haired teacher-she seemed to be the oldest by demeanor-spoke again. "Let's get this straight from the start: You can call us by our first names while no one important is here, but whoever screws up and gets us into trouble for being 'unprofessional,' is going to regret it."

Her apparent twin spoke up, "There aren't that many rules other than that. Suck it up, do your work and we'll give you projects instead of tests."

There was silence in the room, a few shuffling feet, a cough. Some one fiddled with a backpack, but the rest seemed to be awe struck-Hitomi included, though her jaw stayed tactfully in place.

The younger of the teachers stood from her spot with a clipboard from the table. "Right, so I'll call role, just say 'Here' or whatever. And here's your first life lesson from this class: If you just smile and keep your mouth shut when people are talking, life will be a simpler, gentler thing to you."

Naria slid from the desk and pulled out the stack of class syllabi from a large cabinet, then handed them to the closest student and told the poor boy to pass them out for the rows to hand back. He nodded vigorously, and fumbled with the papers from her hand, so much so that one slipped.

"Jessica. Ronald. Edward. Stephen. Victoria. Victoria Beaden? Viccy? Vic? Vicar? Huh. Someone's getting a fail for attendance." There was the scratching sound as the teacher wrote something-maybe a five letter word that started B and rhymed with Mitch- on the seating chart she was filling out. "Kim. Hayley…"

The boy blushed and snatched it up, seeming more conscious of his fingers when the teacher left to sit in her previous spot. Hitomi glanced away as the pinstripe skirt rode a little too high, and there seemed to be a vast majority of the class's male population-except for a very smartly dressed boy in the back that gave a 'Huh!' and wrote something down in his latest issue of Vogue that sounded a lot like what Eryia had written-leaning to the side to get their faces at desk level.

"Oh, Merle. What are you doing here, kid? This is a senior only class…Oh, hmm, that's what you get for going to private school."

Hitomi rolled her eyes._'Great, the brat's got an in with one of my teachers.'_

Naria, apparently, found this interesting enough to stop examining her nails."Oh, the kid's here? Long time no see."

'_Make that two.'_

"Van."

Hitomi tried not to cringe. _'No way. No. Friggen. Way.'_

"Van Fanel? Hm. Another one bites the dust…" There was the scratching sound of a three letter word being written in the margin that was spelled the same way as 'crass,' only it was missing two letters. Hitomi took one final, grim note that an entire year-length class with these two women teaching could possibly be detrimental to both her sanity and maturity.

And with the additive of _Him_-a different _Him_ all together, though which one upset her more was still up to debate-and his little pink-haired brat, her future in the class seemed to dim to a very smothered ember under the foot of a very perturbed rhino.

Hitomi found herself wishing for track team conditioning to star, though it wouldn't for another week. Yukari, as team manager, still had to make arrangements with the coach about what days the actual track-and-field were going to be reserved.

Apparently, the soccer and football teams were fighting for the removal of all other teams' track rights. The track team had received more attention because of Amano, though, and Hitomi was sure the only thing that would happen would be a slightly stricter track-and-field plan.

Yukari knew it to, though the fact that her participation in the argument bought her attention and brownie points from her track-star-boyfriend seemed to override all rational thought.

Hitomi was glad they were finally an official item, though it seemed that such a connection made her best friend into a Dr. Phil incarnate. If she never heard the words, "Give him a chance," again, Hitomi would die a happy woman.

'_But Yukari only does it because she doesn't like to see me unhappy…'_

The attendance had finished, and just as Naria set the clipboard and pen down, the door swung open. In stumbled-though somehow it seemed to be a planned, graceful hiccup of step-a very disgruntled looking boy with messy jet-black hair and burgundy-red eyes.

He made a jaunty trip across the room and handed the frowning teacher a signed pass, the older twin appearing behind her disgruntled sister in a stealthy manner only found in-very hungry, very perturbed-large cats.

"Mr. Fanel, I assume?"

He nodded. "The counselor's office was busy."

The silver-haired teacher sighed in a disappointed manner after seeing the note's authenticity. She jerked her thumb towards Hitomi's side of the room. "Take a seat."

Hitomi glanced around, terrified of what she knew, _just knew_, would be sitting nearby.

An empty desk, that ended up being the one right next to her.

As he slouched into the seat-head turned stubbornly in the opposite direction-Hitomi could only think of one thing beyond the terror and stubborn anger:

'_Good thing Yukari isn't in this class.'_


	4. Goodnight, Goodnight

**Author's Gibberish: **Well, here's another chapter! I'm really, really proud of this one, so I hope you all enjoy it. I'm going to make a quick not that NONE of the lyrics mentioned in this song. They belong to the bands mentioned, and whoever has rights to their music.

Anyway, thank you all very, very much. I love your reviews and critiques to no end! I hope you all like this chapter to leave another comment for me, since you all are the reason I keep posting these silly little things. Thank you for reading!

Tawnyb

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**Disclaimer: **I own nothing. Get that? Nothing. I'm legally incapable of owning anything. In truth, my _parents _own _me_.

* * *

The piece of paper rested-menacingly, disgustingly delicate-on the computer desk in front of the very distressed looking Hitomi. A week of scheduled hell, now named school, had taken its toll and left no survivors in its wake.

Dilandau had come into the habit of not only leering, but also grabbing at her at the most inconvenient moments. It was disturbing and terrifying, but something about the way he grinned stopped her from trying to stop it. There was something not quite right about the school's new cocksure hotty, however, a few teasing pinches were really the least of her worries. She had much bigger, angrier fish to fry, or sucker punch-or, possibly, both.

The stupid, innocent sheet of what once had been part of a brutally mauled tree stirred in the evening breeze that sifted through her open window. A window that opened directly onto a view of her neighbor's backyard, and at the moment, a view of Van Fanel stretched across a lawn chair with an acoustic guitar across his lap and head set placed firmly about his ears.

Really, it was more like trying to beat and cook Shamu, except that orcas weren't really fish.

The twin teachers had come to a decision that the entire class was a bunch of snobbish children, and had assigned what they had dubbed, 'The Lamest Project in the History of Projects,' as a type of punishment. It was a project where one person must get to know their assigned partner, and create some type of thing that represents them as a whole. It was the same type of assignment that beginning teachers gave to classes when they really had no idea what they're doing, but wants to appear productive for the simple idea that a busy class was a learning class.

Really, the only thing the class was learning was that the lame, unknown person they were assigned to was just as lame and unexciting as they had originally thought, and that they were right in avoiding any type of relation to them. Or-if they somehow found the project bringing them closer to a person of extreme interest and personality-that creating a properly symbolic project that would not offend their new friend with its lameness was very nearly living next door to the impossible.

Hitomi had found that her luck was exceedingly poor, and had been assigned to King Shamu himself: Van Fanel.

Yukari's laughter was still ringing in her ears, and Hitomi fleetingly wondered at the reason she had not shoved one of the hot food-court fries into the track manager's eye. It would have been a salty and painful way of revenge against one of the worst best-friends in history, not to mention, it would have made Hitomi feel a heck of a lot better.

As Hitomi mourned her missed opportunity for sweet payback, a tune flitted though the window and she leaned backward in her computer chair to listen. She had to fight back a grin as the starting chords to the Foo Fighter's "Still" began playing and drew her toward the window.

Van sat-stretched out on the woven plastic lounge chair-with his eyes closed. His foot bounced, the knee bent up next to the other one, fully extended. His headphones were wrapped about his head and the radio-cassette player sat beside his hip.

The little piece of outdated technology really didn't seem so out of place when he was like that. So laid back and innocent of the changing fads and opinions, simply existing and plodding along through life without rush. It was just like him.

At the moment, he didn't look like a rock star in frayed jeans and band t-shirt. He was just her next door neighbor that liked to play guitar and laugh at secret inside jokes and sing songs when he thought she was asleep in her sleeping bag and act like a complete Momma's boy and run all the way home to pickup what ever Merle had forgotten _this_ time and… and…

Make bets that left his best friend feeling broken hearted because she had to find out in the most public way anyone could ever manage to fathom.

Hitomi pulled back from the window, reciting a mantra that hadn't been repeated in quite a long time.

'_I don't like him, I don't like him, I don't like him. I hate him._

_Why do I hate him?_

_Because I like him.'_

"Damn it!"

As her face made contact with the desktop, Hitomi knew that she was screwed. Painfully, irreversibly and terrifyingly screwed, by some sick part of her own mind that had somehow come out as a masochist.

It was the same part that kept dragging up that stupid event whenever she saw a morning show playing across the television, that same side that kept remembering just how his room smelled or how he always knew how to get her out of a funk or how his ears would turn red when he was embarrassed or frustrated at not being able to find the right words.

It was the same side that reminded her of the gut-wrenching comments that came out of some slutty girl's mouth, or how Van hadn't been able to lie-had never been able to lie-and say that, no, it was all some big prank. It was the same side that reminded her of the hopeless, pleading look he had given her at the Jr. High promotion ceremony, and how Merle had never talked to her after that one last fight.

Hitomi stood and clicked off the desk light before slipping into bed, trying to ignore the sound of Van's guitar as the song suddenly changed to something quieter, and his voice sang along.

"_You left me hanging from a thread we once swung from together_

_I lick my wounds but I can't ever see them getting better_

_Something's gotta change_

_Things cannot stay the same."_

She knew the song, Maroon 5's "Goodnight, Goodnight." Van had played it when he had done something monstrously stupid, or was too proud to admit defeat but too smart to continue the argument. Hitomi scrunched her face into the nearest pillow to stop the need to sing along.

"_I'm sorry, I did not mean to hurt my little girl  
It's beyond me, I cannot carry the weight of the heavy world."_

It kind of made her sick.

_"So goodnight, goodnight, goodnight, goodnight  
Goodnight, goodnight, goodnight, goodnight  
Goodnight, hope that things work out all right, yeah  
Whoa."_


End file.
